


Operation Haunt The Living Daylights Out Of Them

by ephemeralblossom



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Haunting, ToT: Extra Treat, Unlikely Friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 04:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12573304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralblossom/pseuds/ephemeralblossom
Summary: Bertha and Whiskers are on the case.





	Operation Haunt The Living Daylights Out Of Them

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BatchSan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatchSan/gifts).



“What do you think?” Bertha asked, pressing her nose against the windowpane. Even though she could technically have floated right through the wall, being a ghost and all, she preferred to respect physical boundaries. It felt neater.

Whiskers, who had been a ghost longer and had no such delicate notions (as he called them), casually floated through the wall and down onto the porch overhang for a better look. She could see his whiskers twitch, although in the sunshine no human would have seen more than a flicker of light. 

The family moving in looked pretty standard to Bertha. Two moms, two kids (medium-sized), and a squalling baby. Bertha didn’t particularly like babies – they made an unholy racket, and when they grew into toddlers they sat on you and pulled your ears. But at least since her translation she didn’t have to worry about the latter, and she could always wander the neighborhood if the crying got too loud. 

Whiskers floated back in and settled on the windowsill next to her, his nose trembling with excitement. Three families they’d lived through together, and he still got all bouncy every time a new one arrived. “One of the moms looks too sensible. She doesn’t have the Belief.”

Bertha saw what he meant. Still… “That just means it’s more of a challenge,” she said, trying to convey the fact that these petty amusements were hardly worth her notice. It was only a nod to tradition and Feline Code, though; she knew Whiskers saw right through her. Maintaining the proper level of haughtiness was much more difficult now that they were ghost comrades, instead of Bertha the pampered Queen of Everything and Whiskers the Lowly Mouse. Gone were the days that Bertha could turn up her nose at her food one evening and be guaranteed a new gourmet choice the next morning, or lounge in her human’s lap and demand worship for hours. Now she was reduced to being best friends with a mouse.

Still, however much she might wince at the thought of what Other Cats might say, Whiskers wasn’t all that bad. He had an earthy sense of humor, and was excellent at ferreting out all the best gossip from around the neighborhood. And then there was Operation Haunt The Living Daylights Out Of Them, which Bertha had to admit was rather fun. 

“True,” Whiskers said now, brightening. “The other mom might be too easy. If we could spook the _sensible_ one, now that would be a feather in our caps.”

Bertha missed when she could play with feathers. Those had been good days. 

But she was getting distracted. “Usual rules?” she said.

Whiskers grinned. “First to make the target scream and declare that the house is haunted wins bragging rights. You’re on.”

Bertha took one last glance at the bustling family beneath them, then floated over to her favorite spot on top of the refrigerator. She had plans to plan, people to haunt, and a game to win. 

It was good being a ghost.


End file.
